


Loyalty

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 17:54:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21498136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Ignis is quite happy with his royal arrangement.
Relationships: Regis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 18
Kudos: 80





	Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

There’s absolutely _nothing_ Ignis loves more than riding his king’s cock.

Well, that might not _exactly_ be true. Ignis loves the king himself far more than the amazing, mind-blowing sex they share at every given chance. He loves his prince too, albeit in a different way. But there’s no activity that surpasses this—not even the royal service he takes so much pride in. Earning his Crownsguard uniform was a grand achievement. He’s proud of his degrees and diploma. He even earned a medal once, which hangs on his wall, properly framed. 

But lying with his king is the best of it all, and it drives Ignis wild every time. Regis is so _kind_, such a generous lover, and his hand always snakes towards Ignis’ cock, but Ignis whines and pushes it away. Any more stimulus and he’ll burst—it’s too _good_, too _perfect._ And he would die if he ever came before his king. He clenches his channel tight around Regis’ thick cock and drinks in the pleasured moan that rips out of Regis’ throat. Even his voice is so wholly erotic. The littlest noises make Ignis’ toes curl. Regis’ blunt fingertips dig into the soft muscles of his thighs, bruising in little grooves that Ignis will treasure later. He spreads his own fingers across Regis’ broad chest, though he doesn’t put any pressure on Regis’ body. He uses his knees to bounce himself up and down, his training coming in handy; this is what he stays in shape for. His glasses are on the bedside table, but he can see well enough through his thick haze of _lust_. Regis is the most gorgeous creature that Ignis has ever known. Ignis bends down to kiss him, trading one kiss for another, sucking on his tongue and devouring his lips, until Ignis knows that he can’t take much more. Then he pushes back up and groans as the ecstasy ricochets right through him.

Regis is getting close. Ignis can see it in the tightness of his face and the way his hips slowly rock up into Ignis. There is no condom between them, just the delicious slide of _skin-on-skin_, so Ignis will feel every drop that he earns. They’ve been together long enough, built up enough trust, that this can happen. Sometimes, Ignis likes to savour that—he’ll pull off just in time to let his king’s release splatter his body. But this time, he wants to feel it bubble up inside his ass, and he clenches down, begging Regis to give it to him. 

Regis grunts, face scrunching up, and spills over the edge. His hips shoot up suddenly, jarring Ignis, who gasps but takes it, delighted. He drops his full weight down, impaling himself completely, and shudders as Regis fucks up into him. Regis moans so beautifully. He moves for an absurdly long time, spilling so much that Ignis can feel it trickling down and drizzling around his rim. Sometimes he wonders if the crystal aids it—if the royal line is ensured this way, by the royal family coming enough to drench five lovers. Ignis _loves_ it. He loves Regis. He takes it all, and only when it’s finally over does he let himself come. He doesn’t even need to touch himself. Feeling Regis’ pleasure is enough. He trembles and cries out, spilling across Regis’ stomach, a pitiful amount compared to what his king’s given him. 

Then he slumps forward, but he stays on, not wanting to pull off, even as his cock flags and his head comes down. He feels wondrously numb to his extremities, heavy and boneless, spent but still stubborn. He wants to savour the feeling of Regis’ dick inside him. But eventually, Regis pats his hip and sighs. 

Ignis begrudgingly pulls off. He shifts over to lie down beside his king, staining the sheets with both their seed and his sweat. Regis is flushed dark and breathing hard. Ignis takes a few dizzying moments just to catch his breath. 

Eventually, he murmurs, “May I stay the night, Your Majesty?”

Regis chuckles softly. He tilts to kiss Ignis’ forehead, promising, “You know you are always welcome.”

Regis will never know how absurdly _grateful_ Ignis is. Ignis knows exactly how lucky, how fortunate, how _blessed_ he is to share Regis Lucis Caelum’s bed, and it has nothing to do with Regis’ title. He looks down at Regis, full of love, and offers, “I’ll go get a cloth.” He always cleans them after. He enjoys the ritual. Regis lifts one hand to gently cup Ignis’ cheek. 

He asks, “What have I done to deserve such a thoughtful lover?”

Ignis smiles so wide that it practically hurts. He knows his quiet service will never be enough to match what he’s given in return. He murmurs, “You have been wise, compassionate, strong... handsome...” He could go on for ages, but Regis laughs and presses one finger against his lips, hushing him.

Regis states simply, “I adore you.”

Ignis’ heart swells. He opens his mouth, but he can’t even say the three words that he always does, because he’s too overwhelmed. Instead, he bends forward to share another kiss. 

Then he straightens and leaves, only to swiftly return and stay.


End file.
